Shorts
by Kieko Goes ROAR
Summary: My first attempt at fanfiction. Oneshots, all characters, suggestions/feedback much appreciated. New chapters up! Artemis downloads some new music.
1. Atrophy

**A/N-I don't own Artemis Fowl or related characters! Credit for the books, characters, etc. goes to Eoin Colfer, author extraordinaire.**

She was going insane. She could feel it in her bones, in every breath she took. Commander Root had been wrong. Or at least, he had been partially wrong. There was life underground, but it was _boring._

After more than four years (although it had been little more than one to her), Holly was back with Recon. Unfortunately, the Council had felt so pressured after her return that she had been promoted to major almost immediately. That meant desk duty, and lots of it. There were perks to a higher rank, though…

An emergency transmission came to her office, flashing red. Foaly was growing ever more dramatic as time went on.

"Holly?" The voice she heard held an unmistakable tremor of panic. "I need your help."

She raised her eyebrows, despite the fact that he could not possibly see her through the miles of earth between them.

"What did you do, Mud Boy?" She asked, dreading the answer. There was a pause, and she heard the sound of china breaking.

"My parents left on an anniversary trip for two nights. I have to watch the twins overnight. Alone." Artemis whispered.

Holly's eyes widened. The twins under Artemis's care were a threat to the entire world.

"I'll be there as soon as I can." She promised, and then terminated the link.

Ignoring the stacks of paperwork that still needed to be done, she selected the few needed for an aboveground mission and quickly approved them.  
A few minutes later, she was headed towards the door with a pair of Hummingbird wings.

"Short! Where are you going?" She almost made it to the door without getting caught by Vein. He took a few steps towards her.

"Don't you still have paperwork to do?" He questioned.

Holly looked at the door, and above, to where the surface was, even if she couldn't see it. Was this worth it?

"Sorry, Commander." She replied. "It's a matter of national security." She skipped the last few steps out the door.

A few hours later, as she soared into the Irish night, she knew it was worth it. Maybe this job wasn't so bad after all.


	2. In The Eye Of The Beholder

**A/N-I'm not quite satisfied with this, but I don't know what else to do with it. Sounded much better in my head, and in fact, it started out when I started ranting about my own appearance in my journal. That makes me sound like a conceited bitch, but my monologue-thing sounded much different than the one I wrote for Minerva. Also, I originally tacked the Artemis POV onto the end. Anti-Logic, if you read this, I tried to work on the formatting a bit more this time. Aralana765, if you read this as well, then thank you, even though I'm not planning to expand on any of these stories/chapters/whatever so far. Thanks in general to you two, for the feedback. :)  
**

Artemis was mentally scolding himself with every step. There was no reason he should feel so apprehensive. He barely even knew Minerva. Still, Butler's words kept ringing in his ears.

"_It's Artemis this, and Artemis that. She really has built you up to be something special. You're going to have to work hard not to disappoint her."_

This was too much. In the course of a week, he had had to catch up with nearly three years. Heartbroken parents, twin brothers—and oh, the technological advances. Now he had to "prove" himself to a pretty girl, a fellow genius? He almost turned around then, but Butler would kill him if he left Minerva there waiting.

They were just going to meet up. Minerva was his friend. Well, sort of a friend. Another situation came to mind-"_We'll be friends. Bonded by trauma_." He half smiled.

Artemis had almost reached the restaurant now. Once again, his heart was speeding up. What kind of expectations would she have? What if—inconcievably—he didn't measure up?

* * *

_Am I beautiful? _I've never seriously considered it before. My parents were naturally open with their comments. My childhood was full of "_mon cherie_"'s, and "_ma belle fille!_", as well as the customary "_mon petit protégé!"_ Comments similar to the former only grew once I reached adolescence, but I paid them no mind. I had more important things to think about.

The demon "invasion", of course, was one of my many projects. I was not a single-minded person, and when the demon project turned out to be a disaster, I had plenty of ideas-as well as new friends-to follow up on. Even then, there were comments about my appearance.

"Oh God, Minerva." Butler laughed, head thrown back, as I concluded yet another chess game against him. "If only Artemis was here, you'd actually have a challenge."

A comfortable pause followed. Since the demon incident, we had become fast friends. Butler sighed. I knew what (well, whom) he was thinking of.

"You just might beat him." Butler remarked after another moment. "You could give him a run for his money with intelligence alone, and if he gets distracted by those curls of yours, well…"

I was surprised.

"If I defeat Artemis in anything, it won't be because of my hair." I replied.

"Don't be so sure," Butler said with a smirk. "He thought you were pretty as soon as he saw you in Barcelona, and you've only gotten more beautiful since then."

It was an unusually intense statement from him. I smiled, although I was slightly puzzled as to why he had said it. I still had no reason to think of my appearance instead of my mind.

Blonde curls. Blue eyes. Fair skin. To me, beauty is art. It is long-lost masterpieces, or the flawless execution of a musical composition. It is literature, poetry—it is scientific discovery. I don't know what people see when they look at my face. In spite of my multilingual abilities, beauty is something that doesn't translate in relation to myself.

It had been three months since my conversation with Butler when the phone rang. Of course I knew who it was; Butler's number was programmed into my phone.

"_Bonsoir, _my friend. _Ça va_?"

"Minerva? It's Artemis."

It had been nearly three years. He was finally back. Over the phone, he gave me a brief explanation as to what had occurred since then—we were nearly the same age now. We promised to meet up, and now here I was, wondering what he would think of me. I had never cared about my appearance before because it had never mattered.

What if I didn't measure up?


	3. Reflection

**A/N-Eoin Colfer owns Artemis Fowl and all that jazz, and I own this particular combination of letters, spaces, and punctuation. I'm probably going to churn out a few more of these before TLC comes out, and then I think I'll continue with and without spoilers (I'll make sure to mark anything containing spoilers).**

Two years, nine months. One thousand and three days. Two and three fourths of a year. Thirty-three months. I'm sure my son would have a thousand ways to say how long he has been gone, if he were here.

My eldest son, that is. I have three sons, and the odds that my firstborn even knows that he has two younger brothers, let alone that they are twins, are minuscule.

Miles is similar to him in so many ways. He toilet trained himself when he was only fourteen months old. He already has the vocabulary of a ten year old boy, if not older, and he loves conducting "experiments". Beckett is not so complicated. Sweet and innocent (well, as innocent as a two year old can be), he doesn't care if Miles knows more words. He'd rather be playing in the mud with worms. Both of them are my darlings, but neither of them are the son I dream about, the one whose voice I strain to hear wherever I go, always to be disappointed.

There are some days when I hate God, or the world, or both. I don't know the difference, honestly, when I look up at the sky, or across the beautiful grounds I call home. Artemis could tell me the difference, if he were here.

Artemis the second. Who would have thought that I could lose an Artemis twice? When my husband went missing, I thought I would go mad from pain. Indeed, for a year, I think I did. Even today, I wonder which of my dreams were real, and which were really in my sleep.

When I came to my senses, it was like I was finally coming awake, and I could see clearly again. And with the new clarity in my vision, I could see a change in my son. Like a slight bruising on the inside, there was pain in his eyes, and I know that I was the cause of some of it.

I don't know if this contributed to his disappearance. The Fowls have never been a normal family, but I find it impossible to believe (although several experts have suggested it) that he would not come back if he could. Perhaps it is this that scares me most of all.

Not knowing is the worst feeling. I wake up each morning tearing a fresh hole into my heart—is he dead, or is he alive? He wouldn't run away from us, would he? On particularly bad days, I debate back and forth with myself about Butler's stories.

A companion to Artemis since birth, he gave us the news of his disappearance along with stories of fairies, underground civilizations and time travel. I am fairly sure that this is his mind coming up with stories to cope with the grief, but other times I very nearly believe it. How could fate alone be so cruel as to take another Artemis away from me? Before my husband's return, I was afraid that I would lose them both, but afterward I allowed myself to think we could all be a family together, and make pain a thing of the past.

I thought I knew pain when I lost my first Artemis, but now I know the true feeling. All of us feel Artemis's absence daily. My Timmy and I only have two sons to watch grow. The twins are toddlers now, turning soon into-school age children, without a big brother. There have been worldwide searches. And Butler-ah, Butler.

He has settled into a small fishing village, waiting, he says, for Artemis to return. We visit him often, and in fact stayed with him just this past weekend. Strangely enough, today I have felt on the brink of something. Change is coming.

After coming home from Artemis's physical therapy, the twin's nanny is waiting at the door. She isn't a professional, but the daughter of an old friend of mine. Nevertheless, the twins adore her. She usually rushes out the door to go to university in Dublin as soon as we arrive home, but now something is different.

Time seems to slow down. After so long, could there be news? Her mouth forms words-"_Butler. Telephone. Important. Call back. Just an hour ago. Yes, about Artemis. Mrs. Fowl—Mrs. Fowl, are you okay?_"

Ordinarily I correct her, "Call me Angeline", but today there is no time as my husband and I rush into the house. Time has gone from being too slow to being insanely fast. Inside my head I am pleading with whatever gods exist-please don't let this be another stage of Butler's madness. Please let there be real news. Let there be good news. Let him have found Artemis after all this time.

Back at Butler's cottage, the phone begins to ring.

_"Hello?"_


	4. Brilliance

**A/N-Go to Eoin Colfer for your literary worship, not me. Artemis isn't mine, and sadly I've never come across someone like him in this world. I didn't like how this turned out when I finished typing it, but I think I like it a little better now that it's up here. Urgh. Please _do_ tell me what you think of this one, I'd really REALLY like to know. I didn't like having to put periods in to make the spaces stay there, but I suppose it does make sense that the site doesn't want huge blank spaces all over the place... **

She had never understood the idea of true genius before. Now, listening as he explained the plan they had just carried out, she began to realize. With this realization came a new feeling: awe. This was the mind of one boy, and it wasn't just full of facts. Somehow he was able to take an immense amount of information and connect it in ways that she never ever would have thought of, nor would have most of the world's population.

Now they were dispersing, everyone to whatever tasks they had left to do now. For some, it was finishing touches on the plan. For others, it was simply relaxing in an armchair.

"Artemis." She called out. His name felt strange on her lips. He turned and stepped aside to allow the others to pass him, regarding her with waiting eyes.

_I want to crawl inside you to see what makes your brain tick and your heart beat._

He raised an eyebrow.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Waiting.

Seconds stretched by. It was too long for a comfortable pause.

"Well?" He prompted.

"If you had to describe yourself in only a few words, which would you choose?" She blurted out, already cursing herself inwardly. Where the hell had that question come from? At least it was a little better than what had been running through her mind.

If Artemis was caught off guard by the question, he didn't show it. Leaning against the nearest bookcase, he crossed his arms, expression inscrutable.

"Unique." Artemis said presently. "Genius, naturally—that is, genius would obviously be one of the words. Extraordinary would be another."

"I see." She tried to smile, still embarrassed.

"You picked the one question that would make me seem conceited." The boy observed. She remained silent.

"What words would you pick?"

"What?" She asked, startled.

"What words would you choose to describe me?" He seemed genuinely curious.

"Oh-well, I don't-that is, I wasn't-" He was watching her closely now. Glancing up into his mismatched eyes, the answer sprang to her lips.

"Brilliant." She breathed.

A smile began to fight its way across his features.

"Really." He said.


	5. I'm N Luv

**A/N-Yes, I have completely lost my mind. I'm sorry. I had to do it. I don't own Artemis Fowl (although I wish I did) or the featured song (which I'm glad I don't own). Honestly, guys, I haven't written anything since reading The Time Paradox. This is all stuff that I just never got around to posting before it came out. I'll try to post more before school starts, though. I don't think I'll have much time for this in the fall (marching band, school and cross-country come first).**

It was all Juliet's fault, Artemis had decided. On her first visit home since joining the wrestling troupe, Juliet had attempted to get Artemis to listen to what she called "rap". Of course he would have nothing of it—"_Honestly, Juliet, they aren't even speaking in complete sentences!_" and eventually the matter was dropped.

"_Arty, you'll need to listen to some modern music at some point if you ever want to get a girlfriend._" That was the last he'd heard of it for a few days, but now there was another problem.

The problem was one of the songs Juliet had forced him to endure before he put an end to the agony. Much as Artemis hated to admit it, he couldn't get it out of his head. Ever since first hearing it, it had been going in circles in his mind.

To distract himself, he decided to look up the latest technological advances on blogging sites. They were usually atrociously designed, but were more up to date than their more streamlined counterparts. Selecting a website to view, he double clicked.

As usual, it was full of advertisements. Artemis always tried to ignore them, but this time an ad caught his eye. FREE MUSIC DOWNLOADS. Hmm. Intriguing. Could he? Surely not. The song completed another round in his head and began once more. Perhaps he could.

After looking over his shoulder a few tims, he quickly clicked on the website and started surfing around. It was simple to find the song in mind, and in no time it was downloading.

For a few minutes he was hunting around for some headphones, then he began listening to the song, and got back to work. Feeling pleased with himself, Artemis was soon humming along. A few minutes thereafter he was quietly singing, completely oblivious to any visitors.

_**Got the body of a goddess got eye butter pecan brown I see you girl**_

_**(droppin low) She coming down from the ceiling (to tha floo) **_

_**Yea she know what she doing (yeea yey yea) she doing that right thang **_

_**(yea yey yea) I need to get her over to my crib and do that night thang **_

_**(night thang) Cause I'm n luv wit a stripper **_

_**(chorus x2) **_

_**She poppin she rollin she rollin; She climbin that pole and**_

_**(I'm N Luv with a stripper) She trippin she playin she playin **_

_**I'm not goin nowhere girl I'm stayin I'm in luv wit a stripper**_

**(continued)**

Eventually he tired of surfing the web, and decided to lay down for a moment. Immediately after his head hit the pillow, a tentative knock came at the door. Artemis sat up.

"Come in." He called.

His parents entered the room, looking uncomfortable. Artemis looked back and forth at them.

"Is something wrong?" He asked uneasily.

In response, his father sat down in the nearest chair.

"_Artemis…_" The elder Artemis said, "I think we need to have a talk."


	6. Stripper?

**A/N-I don't own Artemis Fowl. A slight continuation from the last one. Oh, what fun. Feedback?**

Holly had almost finished an uneventful shift when Foaly called her to the Ops Booth. She was so close to leaving, actually, that she had already picked up a nettle smoothie to go and a granola bar from the vending machine. Naturally, she wasn't exactly happy.

"Foaly, _please_ tell me that you've only called me here to show me a new tin foil hat design or something."

The centaur was working at one of the many computers in the room.

"Nope. This is way better than that." Foaly swiveled his chair and caught sight of her food-laden hands. "No carrots? Ugh, you elves have no taste. Anyway, look at this." He brandished a finger at the nearest screen. Holly studied it a moment.

"It looks like a list of the recent downloads. Forgive me for not being wow-ed."

Foaly whinnied.

"This isn't just _any_ download list. It's a constantly updated feed on Artemis Fowl's computers."

"I thought you had pulled all surveillance on Artemis?"

"Oh, you're no fun. Look at the bottom of the list."

Holly was beginning to lose patience.

"Oooh, a teenage boy downloaded music. Call the news crews."

Foaly was not to be taken down.

"Look at the name of the song, _O Queen of Sarcasm_. You're beginning to sound like Julius."

Holly leaned in closer, trying to read the tiny print. Maybe she needed some English refresher courses, but the spelling seemed terrible.

"I'm in love with a stripper? What's that supposed to mean?"

Foaly nearly fell off his chair laughing. Holly's face suddenly paled.

"Stripper-that doesn't mean—it isn't the same thing as in Gnommish, is it?"

He nodded, wiping away a few tears of mirth. Holly looked at the screen again. She too began to laugh.

"Oh, gods. We could blackmail him for the rest of his life."

"I know." Foaly said.

In an instant, the two wore identical evil grins.

Miles aboveground, Artemis felt a chill go down his spine.


End file.
